115 AC

Fort Cailin

The early morning breeze whipped through his hair as he flew over the Neck.

Where once it had been a wide expanse of swampy marshland surrounding a derelict castle, it was now the site of a flourishing city.

Aemon's city of Tradeford sprawled out gloriously all along the Neck's northern bank.

It's fifty thousand inhabitants already up and about to greet the first rays of dawn.

It had been a long and arduous process but Aemon's hardships had finally borne fruit.

A magnificent castle of red and black stone towered over the surrounding city. It's countless high towers piercing skywards like daggers thrust into the belly of the earth.

Fort Cailin was complete. The passage was complete. His vassal strongholds Whitegate and Blackgate, that controlled access to the passage were also complete.

It had taken over eight long years and over half a million gold dragons. But seeing it all before him like this, Aemon felt that it was all worth it in the end.

With the completion of the passage Aemon had gained control of one of the busiest shipping lanes in the known world.

And so it was no surprise to him that the city of Tradeford had sprung up along it's banks.

In fact, anticipating this Aemon had high walls built surrounding the city. Tradeford might yet not be as populous as the major sea ports of Westeros like King's Landing, Oldtown and Lannisport.

But already it was in no way inferior to the smaller cities like White Harbor, Duskendale or Gulltown. And Aemon firmly believed, that given enough time it would grow to rival or even surpass the larger cities of Westeros someday.

A dragon's roar distracted Aemon from his thoughts as he looked up to see Tessarion skimming the surface of the water in search of prey. On her purple scaly back Aemon could spot his sister Alyssa, her silver gold hair streaming behind her as she screamed in utmost glee.

Other than her Aemon could also spot a grey blur high in the sky, where Laenor and Seasmoke were flying over the clouds.

Princess Rhaenyra was visiting, and so was her newly wedded husband, the Prince Consort Laenor.

Being heavy with child Rhaenyra wasn't allowed to go flying on dragon back, and so she'd remained back at the castle.

It was mid morning by the time they returned to the castle.

And as they flew over in formation, the citizens of Tradeford were greeted with the majestic sight of the three dragons- amethyst, grey and bronze, flying over their heads in all their draconic glory.

Once they landed in the castle's expansive courtyard, they all disembarked leaving the care of the dragons to the dragon-handlers Aemon had brought over from King's Landing. While they all retired to the Great Hall to break their fast.

Outside the Great Hall the giant brothers that he'd named 'Left' and ''Right' stood guard in their heavy metal plate armors and impressive bronze regalia.

At sixteen feet tall they towered over them all. And with their fearsome strength were in fact, Aemon's true trump card.

He had been extremely regretful when he'd not been able to take them alongwith him to King's Landing, as they would have been very useful there.

But Aemon knew what kind of rumors would fly around if it came to light that he had two giants in his employ.

So he'd left them behind in the Neck, to protect his holdings in his absence. And they'd done it admirably, flushing out several groups of bandits alongside the Blackguards he'd stationed here.

He couldn't wait to witness their capability on a battlefield. Aemon was sure that it would be a sight to behold.

"They really are something. Aren't they?" Laenor whispered, his voice tinged with awe.

"They certainly are", Aemon smiled, imagining the day his juggernauts would crush apart enemy battle lines at his command.

Soon, they had passed through the Great bronze doors leading into the cosy warmth of the Great Hall. When a black blur bounded towards him.

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"Easy there girl", Aemon said, as Shadow nearly bowled him over in her joy.

Over the last year, the direwolf had matured fully growing larger than a warhorse with thick black fur and glistening emerald eyes.

Their bond too had grown deeper in that time, and now he could sense her clearer than ever before. It was as if she'd become an extension of his own self.

Sylas had assured him that this was natural for wargs. He said, it happened when man and beast became one. The bond finalized, and set in stone.

His bond with Vermithor too had grown stronger. But things were never that simple where dragons were concerned. And although he could command him better than ever before it was not as smooth as his connection with Shadow was.

As for control, that was a pipe dream where dragons were concerned. Dragons were tge kings of the sky. Their ilk didn't bend or bow.

Sylas theorized that it must because his bond with the dragon was a result of the blending of two foreign magics while his bond with Shadow was much purer and more straightforward. And also, unlike the ancient Vermithor, Shadow was young and much closer to him in age. So naturally Aemon felt much closer to his wolf.

Either way, Aemon had made considerable progress in his warging abilities.

Once Shadow had been satisfied with Aemon's petting, she returned to her meal by the hearth. Finally, allowing Aemon to take his seat at the high table.

The Great Hall was a round cavernous chamber made from the same red stone, which had been used to build so much of the castle.

It's rafters were polished ebony wood and it had twin rows of stained-glass windows, painted with elaborate geometric patterns. A gift sent by his father.

A red velvet carpet was laid on the smooth stone floor. Straight from the great bronze doors it led to the foot the dais where his Lord's Seat rose. A cold, frightening thing - The Obsidian Throne.

It had been his father's idea. His inspiration no doubt coming from the Iron Throne itself.

And just like the Iron Throne it wasn't any more comfortable. Sculpted from dragonglass it had countless smooth, sharp edges one could cut themselves on. And it was cold as ice too.

All this led to an altogether dreary experience, whenever Aemon had to sit upon the damned thing.

"Where's your mind at?" Rhaenyra said, nudging him lightly as a wolfish smile grazed her lips.

"It has been busy thinking of you, my Princess." He said, winking at her.

"Flattery will get you everywhere", She returned, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Even heavy with child, she managed to look radiant. The mother of his child.

Their arrangement had borne fruit, in more ways than one. And Laenor and Joffrey were just as happy as he and Rhaenyra were, in each other's company.

Aemon gently squeezed Rhaenyra's hand. Here in his domain, it was allowed. This was their slice of heaven, away from the prying eyes of the vultures at court.

Suddenly the Bronze doors were pushed open, and as Aemon looked up, he saw a panicked Sylas sprinting towards him.

"I-I 'm sorry milord. We didn't think he'd be heading here", He said gasping, in between breaths.

"Calm yourself down and slowly tell me everything." Aemon ordered, his expression grave.

"A red dragon was sighted flying over the White Knife. It's your father Prince Daemon, he's coming here." He said.

About a fortnight ago Sylas had giving him the report that Lady Rhea Royce had passed away in a hunting accident. He hadn't thought about it much then.

As from what he knew, Daemon would just go create a scene there and nothing much would happen. But he was now flying here. That was strange, as in all these years Daemon had never visited his seat.

"I'm sorry milord we failed in reporting this to you in a timely manner." Sylas said, his eyes downcast.

Aemon's spy network had grown into a frightening interconnected web by now. It spanned the entirety of Westeros and all the Free Cities of Essos, all the way to the Jade Gates of Qarth.

And the involvement of coded messages secret safe houses, and the magical involvement of Wargs had only made it all the more formidable.

But no one was infallible, he knew that. And no matter what he did, there would be blindspots in his intelligence. Aemon had long accepted that.

"I do not blame you Sylas. It's beyond you to predict an erratic Prince. Nor can you match the swiftness of Dragon flight. All we can do is learn from our errors. Go you're dismissed." Aemon said.

Soon his father would be here. He had at most a few hours in his hand. Aemon had much to prepare.

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"The Prince has been spotted, milord " Rowan said, as he approached him quickly with the rest of their Blackguard escort.

Aemon only gave him a nod, in answer. His mind was elsewhere.

This hill was known by the people of Tradeford as the Dragon's Roost. It was off-limits to everyone Aemon hadn't allowed explicitly.

This was where their Dragon's home. And he knew well the consequences of building another cramped, dank Dragonpit.

So he'd chosen this open hill for his Dragons, restricting them only from encroaching upon the City itself.

Here the Dragonkeepers and the Blackguard patrols ensured their safety. And the only man-made structures were their many barracks.

It was here they waited for Daemon's arrival.

Rhaenyra and Laenor remained in the castle. As they were members of the Royal House, protocol dictated so.

It was then that he saw. A distant red dot in the sky, that kept getting bigger.

"He's here." Aemon whispered under his breath, as Caraxes spread out his blood red wings, beginning an elaborate descent into the clearing.

"My son!" Daemon called out, as he slid off the dragon's back.

"Father." Aemon greeted, as Daemon pulled him into a hug.

"So how're things?" Daemon said, as they drew apart.

"You've made quite something of this place." He said looking around.

"I'd heard the sailor's gossip but seeing it is something else."

"My son, a mighty Lord of the Realm." He said turning to him, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Aemon scratched his head, slightly embarrassed.

"It's nothing much father." He said.

"Well anyways, I'm famished. Dried jerky and stale bread, is all I've had these past few days."

"The Vale is quite the inhospitable place." He muttered.

"So you did go to the Vale." Aemon said, shooting his father a silent glare.

"What did you expect to find there?" He asked.

"What I'm owed," he replied, gnashing his teeth. "Not that those ingrates give it to me."

Saying so, he climbed atop the mount that had been prepared for him.

"Let's go." Daemon said, breaking into a gallop towards the city.

Their journey to the Keep proved uneventful, as Daemon remained busy looking at the various sights of Tradeford.

As they arrived at the castle they were greeted by Laenor and Rhaenyra, and their entourage.

Once the pleasantries were done with, the two of them father and son, decided to retire to the Lord's Solar.

"So Lady Arryn sent you back?" Aemon asked his father, who was busy tearing into a leg of mutton.

"Yes. First she'd threatened to put me in one of those barbaric Sky Cells, those Arryns have. The nerve of her!" He said, in between bites.

"Well as long as there was no conflict we're fine." Aemon said, sighing in relief.

Jeyne Arryn was a useful ally he'd painstakingly cultivated. Losing her now, just wouldn't do.

"Well forget that now, I have much better news to share." Daemon said, once he'd eaten his fill.

"What is it?" Aemon asked, with suspicion.

"You're getting married my boy." Daemon declared, smiling smugly.

"And to none other than Lord Corlys' daughter, Laena Velaryon."

"B-But I can't." Aemon protested. He couldn't do that to Rhaenyra. He loved her.

"A-And isn't she betrothed already?"

"That matter is of no consequence." Daemon shrugged. "The boy is a scion of a fallen House. Corlys will never let him marry his darling daughter."

"And anyways, we've already agreed to your union."

"But I didn't agree to it. Did I?" Aemon growled. "You should have asked me before you went ahead and decided it for me !"

"Listen boy, I've seen how you and Rhaenyra look at each other. But none of that matters. She can't marry you." The Prince roared.

"And I refuse to let me son be a mere concubine. You have the Rogue Prince's blood flowing through your veins. You won't be her whore."

"We love each other." Aemon bit back in anger.

"That doesn't matter. She loved that Kingsguard too. But in the end she did as my brother bid her to, and married Laenor. You too will do as I say. You will marry Laena Velaryon binding House Velaryon to our cause. We need their Dragons and ships if we are to hold the Stepstones and defeat the Triarchy. Caraxes alone isn't enough."

"And although, Corlys won't invest it all for a friend, he will do it for his daughter's sake."

"I won't sacrifice myself, so that you may wear a Crown." Aemon answered, his voice ice-cold.

"You will do it. If you wish to keep all of this." Daemon said, "What I've given you I can easily take away."

"A bastard cannot be a Lord after all." He said, storming out of the Solar.

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